His Bats
by TamyG
Summary: A bittersweet, extra scene at the end of the "The Killing Joke" .. Batman x Joker Slash .. 13 and above


**An extra scene from the "The Killing Joke" that happened only in my twisted little mind; Slash Theme BxJ**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except a wild mind that should be sent to Arkham Asylum.**

**Please Read & Review!**

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In the outskirts of Gotham, under the dark, rain-bearing clouds, the Ace of Knaves knelt on the wet grassy ground, and with his back turned, he reluctantly listened to the tall, dark man as he spoke.

"We could work together. I could rehabilitate you. You needn't be out there on the edge anymore. You needn't be alone." The Batman argued trying to persuade the clown clad in purple.

The clown slowly turned his head to meet the vigilante's, who softly added, "We don't have to kill each other…"

He sensed a hint of desperation in the voice of the man who was standing behind him, and it felt like a million needles stabbing through his body, his heart. Or was it the rain? For he did have a vague memory of an itchiness, of a burning sensation that surged through him, as soon as the raindrops had hit his body, the day he was reborn. Either ways, he didn't want his Bats to see the sadness that was over taking his usual, unholy grin.

Both remained silent. It was one of the Batman's many signatures, but for the infamous Clown Prince of Crime to be lost at words, it left the vigilante at lost too. The Batman knew he was tired of the endless circle they call their destiny; their never-ending duel. Furthermore, he most definitely knew that he hated the clown; the crazy bastard, who took so many innocent lives for no apparent reason and with an unnatural, sinister grin. Then why was he trying to help this murder and with such desperation?

"_Values?" _He thought.

His values were strictly against killing, but _no_, for deep down he was certain there was some other explanation. He focused at the narrow, back of the Joker; he looked so vulnerable and surreal.

The Joker shivered, even though each and every raindrop still burned his pale skin. He didn't really care, for the stinginess didn't really bother him as much as the overwhelming sadness that was engulfing him; the Batman, his Bats, still didn't understand him. After all these years, all the plans he had brilliantly designed, all the shows he had carefully played and the countless dances they had shared with one another, were no more than a twisted display of affection; all to show off to his Bats and to grab and hold his attention. Yet, his beloved Bats failed to fathom his emotions.

Still on his knees, the clown felt sturdy arms wrapping around his thin shivering body, and pulling him close to the equally sturdy, muscular chest. Once close to the kevlar-armored chest, he felt a steady, hot breath brushing against his stark, white neck. Suddenly, an involuntarily sob skipped his throat. His body had finally betrayed him; warm tears trickled from his fluorescent, green eyes and soft sobs skipped his throat every now and then.

All the while, the Dark Knight couldn't help but act on his protective nature, for when he saw such vulnerability in front of him, he didn't really think, he had simply acted on an impulse. Unfortunately, he never saw this coming, and was now caught in an awkward situation. It was a situation that he would have never imagined not even in his wildest dreams, his archenemy in such a weakened state, crying in his arms. Nevertheless, he planned to take control of it, and so he embraced the crying clown tighter, while hushing in his ear softly. In response, thin, purple-gloved hands clasped over his black-gloved ones, and squeezed tightly. Something stirred inside him, as he tried to sooth the man in his lap, who kept squeezing his hands, seeking comfort; this wasn't awkward at all, no, it was perfect. It felt like the last piece of the puzzle was at last placed and the picture was now crystal clear. He didn't hate the Joker; on the contrary, he loved him. So this was what they meant by, a fine line between love and hate.

When the Clown Prince finally managed to calm down, he closed his eyes in an attempt to savor the moment. He didn't understand the actions of his Bats, they confused him and he was scared. Did his beloved finally come to understand him? Had he finally tied the loose ends? Many questions started to overflow his mind, but he forced them aside and was determined to enjoy the embrace of his beloved while it lasted. He tossed his gloves aside, and then started to gently tug at the other man's glove. A smile formed on his lips when his Bats didn't resist. Spontaneously, he cupped the large, warm hands with his; he pulled them closer to his face, closer to his cold, cherry lips, and then placed a long, sweet kiss.

On the other hand, the Dark Knight was relieved when the man in his embrace had stopped crying, but he didn't feel like letting go yet; how could he possibly break something that felt so perfect? A few minutes later, he felt the clown gently tugging at his gloves, and he merely remained silent as a sign of his approval. He sensed a smile drawing on his usually impassive face, when tall, slender fingers were caressing his bare hands with so much care and fondness. Getting his hand pulled closer, he felt a warm breath, making his body eager with anticipation. But for what, what was he anticipating? Finally, a pair of cold lips pressed on his hands, placing a long, passionate kiss. It was a simple and spontaneous act of affection, yet the Batman felt a wave of emotions travelling through his body; he felt happiness, passion and tenderness blended with sadness, longing and agony. It was bittersweet, their bittersweet love.

The Joker took a deep breath before parting his lips from the hands of his Bats. He gave them another gentle squeeze and whispered, "I love you."

Before breaking their embrace, The Batman simply replied by returning the gentle squeeze.

The Joker smiled, for he understood and that squeeze was more than enough.

His Bats was finally _his_ Bats.

..

_The End._

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